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Exeter Advocate, 1899-2-16, Page 6NOTABLE STOCK SHOW. One iloodredth Annual 4xn,thition ot the Smithfield Club. The huudredth minuet ebove of the famous British Smithaeld elnh was re- cently held at leihigton and wee ward- II Ly the Prince of Wales, the Deets t.f York and (alter uotnblee Tee ea.) tS the I.M.K1411 Illuttated erceitlent ef the einit in the year anternry t eitterAT inSt desed and wee' suceeselui ensileting t tut' as wt . Vie ottazia's 11 memo) eeeee, (First prize IRS.) as a donor of prizes aud eraineut royal patrou, well sustaining the example Fet by his tether, the prince ceneort, founder a the aera Agricuit=1F0 oiety atni a lead:hie iMprove r of enttlee cud other live stock. Their royal higied oesses innehed with the council of the Smithfield club. Tile queen wen two: breed cope, three first prizes and twei eecond mins. The chaumiou prizes and the centenary gold medal were awardt d! to Lord Strathmore for his Aberdeute Angus leiter, declared to he the gloat animal in the thew. This heifer at gained the chief heelers at the Bin-nit:e- h= cattle elem. rant Ferdinand dt Rothsebild was elected presideut tie 10, deaet a centuryago. continues The nova in the geed eld days of famine, 'when Ate:riven I;eef at:d Austreliet mutton wero ut when sheep Fte:Ili!I wits a banging mutter and wbent low at 40 ebillings a (pewter, a Deree- shire farmer named Wilkes had an iata Do not infer that farmere in general, er Derbyshire ferment in particular, two lacked ideas. But the ou,e which enl;i• nated from the fertile brain of hir. Wilkes was an idea wtrthy of the cap Rai I—almost an inspiratiou. Tbie wen- n:al acorn, if oue nmy use the expres. elen, was the end whence sprang rbe Smithfield ('attle and Sheep eoeiety The laudelle aim of the society w a "to supply the cattle rnarlzets of Smith field and elsewhere with the eheape4 and best meat." Mr. Wilkes' idea wee taken up with moderate entbusittent and in the following year, 1799, the first show was held in Dolphin yard Smithfield. The society then cOunten 118 member& Their show consisted oz two classes of cattle and two of sheep and the value of the prize list was ex- actly 50 guineas. The scheme of clasei- fication adopted was almost mettle-evu! in its fixtiplieity. "Beasts" fed on hay, turnips or cabbages competi d it Oue elass; "beasts" fed on corn or eakt eira the other ; keep (be pleased to muv that agrieultural zoology recognize: ' oniy ono Pettet) fed on grass, etc., cum peted tcgcther, and sle ep fed on corn Five years later the members' roll hat: increased by one, but the show 'MIS CS "lauded to eine classes for beasts atm sheep, orentel its arms to the humble. unimprevec pig and offered L'215 is. 1; prizes. • The w.ra eif real ernsperity dawree with the epreed of railways. In 1F,17:2 when the &thaw woe ht id for tho ere: time at Islingt en, there were ;7'0 elaeses. and over 42, 60 was ofi ered in prizes. ENSiteeetlE IN FATTENINQ. It 'Kee at. euntelotte whew red Cold in Wittirc. Exeeptzu t be ernall amounts that are useful to keep the tmwels loose we dente whether eusilage eau be profit - reply fed to stock of auy kiud that is oeing fiats lied, says the .Boston Culti- vator. ituriog tbis process the purpost of the feeder is to get water out of the meat rather Oast to eueourage its in crease. Tine arguasems for feediug tU Cows on menage will not apply for fat teeing auimale. Indeed, when we were feediog beef cattle or sheep, we always found that duriug the later period, though the animals were wholly on dry d. they would (Wok very little. and when] they had a few pumpkins addit tieual tbey would often go tbrough tee day witlinut drinking at all. It them ensitage were fed, though the astir:rile might at it they vet uld therelty eat niers: wear iti their toed thee they le quired. Iueueb eases it always reenittel in watery erects passing off iamb of the meal time the animals ate without do - lug thous any good. In winter time esreeialle, aid this is when tneilage is usually fed, it may at- test, le actoally imenrieus winu it is fed cold, as it etten is. Where we mixed eve feed with seelditee hot water. Fur- tive!, it ors the eut hay or straw auti the u while hot adding meal to it, the partial ceohing which the meat received Made toth it and the cut hay or straw more palatable. Fed thus, fattening beef cattle, uot only did llet want tea would pot (Ida pure water, ofteu for several days In succeeeion. Poseibly thee reight if the water had twee o'ered emus as the cut feed wee. Sheep re- q uize oven len water than beeVe% OPly the ewes that are bearing lembe, or have lambs that Are Sec/klieg, will driuk much water. It is neceeeary for them, because it is neceseery in making a good supply of nailk. u tine sheep that are fatteuing, or are store sheep, will ecarcely take more than one or two sips day. All who have watered milk cowt. know how heartily they will drinle Eveu those thut ore fed coueiderable en- silage driuk a good deal, and rev haps sometimes mere than is good for then). Evellage is gocrl for breeding animole and theat that are giving milk. But in cold weather some dry food should le - given daily, else the ensilage diet will make au animal lose flesh, unless it also fed with some dry feed, both hay aud grain. Stock fed early in winter a corustalks clo not need numb water, the natural uices of the stalk are ne then dried out of them, and for thie reason early in the winter is when corn- stalks sbould always be fad. No doubt in all the older states the feediug of cows for milk is what most Winter feeding 311 done, and for thee what is written in all the papers in fa. 'ger of eueiloge is all right. But, like every other good dung, ensilage has its linaitations, and it may not be alto- gether useless accasioually to point out What these are. PAT HIMEFORDSIIIRE OX. [First prize 99 years ago.] while the members of the club num- bered 400. At the above of 1898 tbere were 94 classes, containing 864 cattle, 640 Shcivp owl 270 pigs, and the prize list fell eheet by £84 9s. of 5,000 in cash, cups and medals. It was possible for ono steer or ox to win about £400 worth in money and gold and silver plate if he carried off every prize fel , which he was entered, inoludiug tb:. prize of the centenary show—tin Queen's Challenge cup, value 4150. A pen of three sheep could bring theit owner about £228, while a pair of tri umphant pigs could win about Z188. I (Vending Whey to Dogs. Whey °whales more nutritive vale} than it 13 popularly eupposeci to have Though most of the . fats and caseil. have Won taken fecrin it, there is is small proportion of both of these that goo through the press. These have some value, but not enough with the large proportion of water to be fed alone. There is also some sugar, which .snaltee the pigs fond of whey, so they tent at until they are distended witb WheY, While growing poor in flesh and tnot gaining in weight at alt. But mix elionte eerie and oat meal with this -whey htnd add the least bit of linseed meal, and the whey becomes altogether a dif- ferent food. It might he said that the Whey coratrilyates nothing of value tt. tbe ration. rb does, for it makes it mot:, palatable if given in moderation. The 'sweet in the whey makes it an appe- time, to encourage the animal to eat Aeon than it otherwise would.—Boston IlDeltiVittor" — Guessing Weight of Stock. As this is "butchering time" on thousautla of farms one of the best wnys of training the eye to judge both of live and dressed weights of animals is now offered. If the farmer bas some barn scales it is easy to secure the live weight of animals at any time. But there is great difference in the amount of waste in killing and dressing, even among animals of the aurae breed. It is this kind of knowledge that the buyer learns by long practice, aud unless fanners want to be cheated in selling live stock they must learn also. When a boy an the farm the writer was encouraged to make his guess as to bow much each bog or beef would weigh both alive and after it was drested for marketing. It is knowledge that every boy on the farm sheuld try to gain.—Boston Cul- tivator. Mating Ewes With. Large llama. Many farmers who have a flock of grade Merino ewes only medium in size are questioning whether it is safe tn mate such ewes with rams of the coarse wool breed much larger than them- selves. We think it is safe provided the ewes are young and vigorous. The fetus will not probably be much, if any, larger than it would from a native buck of their own size. The superiority of tbe lambs will not be in their increased size at birth, but in the rapid growth they will make and the quick respoese they will make to extra feed after the lamb gets old enough to eat it.—Boston Cultivator. Age In. Rams. It la estimated tbat there are 50 pee cent more ewe lambs in the range coun- try this year than male lambs, a fact that may be traceable to the larger use of young rams and ram lambs than were fcrmerly used on range flocks. If tbie be true, the theory of French experi- menters that young sires get more ewe lambs than ram lambs is pretty well attested by American experience ou a broader scale. American Sheep Breeder. Value of Sheep. -The American Sheep Breeder says that for a farmer a flock is better than a herd. It is more easily oared for in proportion of seven to one. Its good effect on the land in improving it for crops is far 'greater than that due to the feeding of cattle, and every farmer will find it to his interest to keep a flock, if only for the purpose of making the feeding of it one item of the regular votation of crops. BETWEEN TWO LOVES ligleTUA M. MAT. (Qoutieuede) MI hie *out was in his eyes as lingered on her, Perbaps one move of tee white band, one sweet, humble word, might have tthanged the ceeree of both lives. As it wes, she turned haughtily away, The duke is, at least, a tame agree- able companion than yomaelf," the said. with a little mocking laugh, That was her last word. He teeth. out with ham trite the eoldness and dueness a picture of her as she Weed II ere, the light falling on her golien hair and lovely face, shining on bor jewels, gleanures in her dress; he saw her proud. brit eyes, the curl of the proud, aweee ilrs, the haughty ague 4.7.riwo to its fun Iteeset—a picture that renteletsed him with its marrelous beauty end queenly scorn. Another mo- ment mad he was gone. h eeemesi to that pod beauty as thong's a cioutl bati taiten over her; her face grew vele ee death - "Clinton!" she cried, with a starases gnsp. Then she said to herself. "Not 1 %Ail not c -all hint haek. and, if he eame woom ece epeidi to bine" Teere was another detailed for Lady May, and attain she roused berself, sVi a eigh—witia a strauge feeling that something terrible had happened to her in a dream. The Duke of Reet-eara was by her side. seetikhan to her iet a IOW, hurried voice. At that she goal zior distiutfutsb Me words; then they fell dietitietty me her ears. "I have not told ay mu. that Sir Clinton was here," he said. "I thought ethers you would prefer it so. No ose seems to Reim he has been." "Why should 1 prefer it?" she nil; 'hisvisit will not be a secret Plenty' o People have Seen hire come and go." "No one appears to have recognized bine" said his grace. Then she had tact sufficient to say no more. From the expreseion of her face, which be- lied her words. lee hu'w that he teed done zi4ht, aud had done what Pleatitel ber, It was ell litie a dream—she mule' rot teethe- that it had paeseel. There wets no time for thought, thee of tbe repel dukes had consented to remain for the grand banquet, with which the even- ing was to elose, and Lad' Swandown whetted the beautiful young heiress to sit by him, "You are the star of uty entertain. ent," abe said; "you mina not cease shining yet," So Lady May, with that strange, arab feeling at her heart, the same dreary daze of brain. set by the euktes ale, and throughout 'that long, mug- ailleent hauquet she was the very seurce and center of all attraction. Site hod never been seen to greater advant- age; she was sulfite:wet brilliant and witti; pointed repertees, sar- tins, dropped teem her beautiful tips, The duke said afterward that there wts no woman in Ragland so fair or so *lever as Lady ',tiny Trevlyn. Looking at her. no One would have thought that the had just brolten her lover's heart, aud destroyed her own happiness. It was like a dream to her; she had not realized it yet. From the glittering /ights, the gleam of jewels, the crowd of fair faces, her lover's faee, white and haggard as, she bad just seen It, looked at her; bet she turned away with a ebudder. It was all featly; she must not think yet of what had hap. pened; sae must wait until she reathea home, until she was alone; then she exA31,1 think as she might. Lely May was queen of the fete. ;es people drove home they tented abetet her; they said to each other that slas was perfect in her loveliness and in het, groee; that she was proud, but then that was only natural—a beauty and n. great heiress, pride did not seem so completely out of piece with her. They talked laughingly tibut the Duke of Itoseearn, how he teamed to worship her. Some wondered why she e"hould hare preferred Sir Clieton when she might have been a dnehees; others seal there was no enmpailson between the two gentlemen, and that she had etosen wisely. Then there %Vita a confused rumor of Sir Clinton having been seen in the green -room; some affirmed, others con- tiadieted it. The world was satisfied on one point—Lady May had taken it part in the play, without caring much what Sir Clint= thought or said aboat ft. Evidently he would not be the rul- irig power. Gentlemen laughed, tend said it was easy to see which sex held supremacy, after all. Ladies felt a secret sense of elation—they had a right to their opinions, after ell. So iihe latillant fete of the season came to an end. Lady Swandown was amply satis- fied; everybody praised and complimeat- ed her the fashionable journals all de- clared it to have been the event of the season. Mrs. Dunbar was completely annihilated—her efforts stink into in- eignificance; and the countess owned to herself that she had Lady May to thank for it all. That a human heart had been well-nigh broken, a life mar- red. the seeds of a terrible trageay sown, my Lady Swandown was sub- limely indifferent—her object was achi- eved, and she cared for nothing else. It was not until Lady May sank back among the soft cushions of her luxuti- ous carriage that she realized at all the events of the night. Then she drove the memory of it away; she would not think of it. Why spoil so fair an even- ing with so dark a memory? Time enough yet to recall all he bad said and done. Yet It went with her, that white, despairing face. She looked out into the sweet, soft, dewy night—it was there; she broke,' up to the golden - gleaming stars—it was there. It pur- sued her, immeted her. She saw it even more plainly when her eyes were closed. Home—tlhere was Cliffe House'and lights in the hall. Miss Lockwood, con- trary to her usual custom, was sitting up for her. Lady May would fain have swept past her to her own room. Her strength was Ovine way a little. She had worn her mask well and bravely, but it was slipping now. Not much long,er would she be able to talk with bright smiles, and laughing eyes. "Are you up, auntie?" she asked. "What a reveler I am! I believe the dawn is breakthig in the skies. You sbouhf not have waited for me." Feed on Mingo's. A surplus of feed and fodder should be secured Ler the flock on the range. Due provision should be made for shel- ter probable to be Deeded. It is better to be sure of this than sorry for neglectirtg it. No man more than it shepherd needs to keep bis head level. He must not get too elated by present good for- tune or beconae depressed by and by at a possible change. —American Sheep 'Breeder. r dr. r,r,rr.r• "Aly deur May. 1 was anxioes and ueeney. Have von seen Sir Clattea?" "You need not he ansious or mieasy over him" she replied. "I thought perhaps he would come here with you. 1 could not rest for el/Al/Meg of him—he startled me, atey. 'Ile startles a treat matte Peoole." she replied, teeing to laugh; but the laugh died away on her lips, and they great strangely white and chili, "Wha dui be startie you, auntie?" she witted, "Aly dear, he drove straight liere trent the rai:nay statien; he had islet eneue It from Palest and he had talien notlingt-- no rot 4, no nine; he came here at epee, expecting to and you at boute." alles Lockwood paused, awl looked at the beentiful face before her. "Ile twitted briget end hopeful when be came iui eau Moue, NUto, Leekweeel." he eala: where is Lady May?' 1 teld him, aioP pee. er, and she had failed in doing it. Looking back, she did not vendee that he had rebelled against the indigaity she offered him. It was all over now.— he had gone, and, if she reed his faee aright, she should see iJm no more; so the sun of hear life had set in darkness, and she Was alone. Grief had its Way; she spent the loug hours of Met nifaltt in lamenting bitu—she would have gime eu she lead to undo what was done; but it was irrevocable, she could never ondo She mourned fer him, she wept for bizi passionate teas, she called him with passionate eries. Site struck t ' White hand that the Duke of He had kiesed—struck it, and ble She ceuld bave bruised the lips t seld steel cruel words, the fee te looktal at him With such =IV' Then she said to herself that he must preserve her pride—no one must know he eteod quit*' still. with a leok Luton 1 the secter of their parting or of her w- ide face as tha+ugli 1 hml Wolpttle4 him rnw.. The morning eunbeanis fumed h 'I cannot livileve it,' be eahl„ a; hist; heeding stilt upon the floor, her faee e would not go there,' Tb, e, wove etrollee arid stained with weeping. It he knew it was true, he cried • re, si was the warns. bright sunsbiue r4 Wing will feliow herr 1 liegtied of 1im oT VI her that roused her from what WI', t:stesxiiihpg be !yoked so wei aret Ey the half uncoeseienseess 01 eteee, sonnee, but he would not." She rose front the flour, and, extdfing "That mores be wirS not huger," ee'd t gty li,,n7vtie eeofr ov bolura ieelfie. netbe m . irror, 1:3tr,l "This will net do," said Lady WY. '1 have had my own way; I have d Stet hi'm to desperation—driven, him from ate. Tears are of net axml must pin. zliraIrtilridee:' tscents and essences ori her toilet -table would not rettleVe the ewes of tens, Tbeu the proud mum beirese Fent to say that she would take briee- fost 1.n her OWSk room. No one must the troce ot those teers, teat they shoat' hum they bad been shed for him, She said to herself that elle Mix shed no more: everythine eise Inul gee from ber—elie would at'. least preserve her pride. But even when sbe had taletet it was eta* a glorious temente 1 meet brealtmer, and two hours of the sunny ;horning end passed over, her face still etalued truces or team—it was pale, and her eyes were dine 1 eau say iny head aches, and, in good truth, it does—my beart, toe. No oue will wonder at my being tired atter last evening," She weut down to the drawing-ronnh nhere Miss Loekwoed sat With her feney.wOrk, "1 wee not surprised to hear that your bead netted. May," site said; "eye were very late last evening." 'Ye-: but the hours flew so swiftly, medics they bad golden wings, Now must tell you all about it," "Before you begin, ray dear let me ask you one question—where b 'Sir Chu- 1.°:Zaullee" hauleallY ehotiede the girl relalitea the question; "Where is Sir Clinton? "Am 1 my brother's keeper," stentle, that you ask nie in swat solemn tones?' "Hush, my dear never lightly use Bible words. Where is he, May?" "At home, I suppose; perhaps feet asleep." "is generally here hatete thes time," saki Miss Lockwood; "and, do you know, Moe', they have sent from Iia house to see If he were here, or if we had news of hint. Ile sent a tee - mean, telling them to prepam fee him, and he has not been there." "Has he not been home ail night?' toacce Lady May, surprised out of her cool assumption of indifference. should imugioe not, by that in- quiry. Did he say anything to you, Mny—was he going back to Paris, or anything of that kind?" "Ile did not tell me so; I only stw him for a few minutes. He looked tired, and not very amiable." Miss Lockwood glanced wistfully at 1.111Y MaY, trying to laugb; but Ph( t end was not pleaearit ta bee. au Miss Lockwood leelsed up auttionste her. CHAPTER Weer MAY'S neelOnSih "Have etou wee him, Mey? T ere wax tiernethiug in bis faee-1 could not tell witat—which frighteeed inc. Have yen teem him?" Lady hiay turned carelessly away, she knew that her face would belie ihet words. "I did we him, but tartly for It few netnetes; there was a great crowd, anti ell You ail about it to-morow—it %yea fairyland!" "Bat May, tell roe about Sir Clit ton; he luterests me, not the party. Tell me, wee he oree'e?" "Do you suppose he would Mime 1, there even if be were?" was the evasive telex, "Why should be be cress?" "Yon should not have gone. May: he mayea you not to go. You may laugh ar rue if yeU will, bot I saw someth ng ia his face that frightened ree. You should have complied with his wishes." "My dear, auntie, I shall alwnys myself, Those wise are 'foolish eactuzie to teepeet submiseion or ohedieoce fruit% me will always be disappointed. I am sorry you have been aneious—I out St.rrr that you have sat up for me, To- morrow I will repay you, by telling yeti all about our entertahunerst" She walked quiekly away. It wee now, this artifietal stamen.% of hers, Her lips quiverinb. her hands trembliegs something WM- otl from her heart as though it wituld euffoeate bet She eased ou quickie to her own room. tier meet, Duval, was wainng She looked up in wonder at the face of her young mistress. "Fee h Inc some wine," said Lae, Mem "1 ant very tired." IIer maid hasteued away. 'Then elle was alone, and her terrible miseryher aYatil 5a11'0l.V4 looked her plahtly in the lam at last She flung up her white alms, with a wild ery. tetreat Heaven, take pity on me!" she said. She bad lost him—he had gone lapin ber, never to return. A dark mist cense between her and the light. Site opted mu again; aed when Dined returnee she fennel her beentiful young edstrete ledee where she had fallen, with her facet to the floor. She had lived too loag among nno ladies as she phrased it, to be either surprised or alarmed. She raised lis', °Pm the window, and let the 0001 night air play upon her; she bathed her hands and face in sweet, fragrant waters.. When Lady May opened her os.,, the amid hastened to re -assure her. "I am afraid I wits too long in bring- itee the wine, my lady. You are over- tired." But even as she spoke, rile said to helsilf that it was not fetigue that dimmed these beautiful eyes and made the beautiful face colorless. Duval was (Vsereet. It was not her fire( situ:item; and she flattered herself that she und sited "fine ladies" as well as she under- sttod the art of hair -dressing. "Make haste," said Lady May, "and take these things away. "She point:el impatiently, as she spoke, to the dia- monds and flowers, the magnificent dress she had worn as Pauline. "Take them away," she repeated; "I am quite tired of the sight of them!" "That means," thought Duval, "that site has quarreled with ber lover. She hastened to obey without cam - meat. "Duval," said Lady May, as the rea'ci was about to quit the room, "you will oblige me by not mentioning my slight attack of faintness to any one. I dislike all fuss about health." "I will not name it, my lady," said the discreet maid, who understood the whole matter by instinct. And then Lady May, the most bexu- VAIL the most admired and courted woman in London was left alone with her eorrew. He had gone away; he 1 -Lid left her, He had spoken sharp, cutting v eras ot reproach to her; he had spoliee with scorn end contempt. "Let him take what he has touched." She shuddered as she remembeeed the words—those cruel, scornful, terrible meets; and now be was gone. For the first time sherealized he own great love for him—all falsity, all sophistry, ail illusion was put aside. She tmderstood that in defying her lover. in outraging his sense of what was due to him, in sending him away front her, she had destroyed her own happines_e merely. She had preferred her own pride to him—she had indulged it at the expense of his happeness; and now only her pride was left to console her. She rose from the pillow that wes of thorns for her; she knelt on the ground and, with her face buried in her hands, she wept as women weep but once in life—euch tears as never caa he forgotten. She had done it all her- self; there was no one else to blame. It flee eesn in her power to make him se- promesty happy, to pay ham the h;gliceat compliment that lay in her power, to me, even .by a look. How shall I herr show her deferenee for his ()Pinion, to k? and it Is all InY own fault." show the world that she respected sea [To ns corrrixtrEn.) esteetned hiin—all this bad been in her her. "I know how proud you are, May," she said, "and how you dislike all mate lions; but I muse say what is on iny mind, even at the risk of disphasine you." "Say what you will, auntie; you are piivileged. 1 should never think of fe 1- ing displeased, as you term it, with you." "Then, May, I have an impression --1 cannot tell why—that something has happened to Sir Clinton. I know yen will keep your own secret, but I shell always think there was 'a quarrel be- tween you last evening. You defied lam so openly; I believe your pride has driven him to de:mention, and he has either sought or met with some terrible misfortune." "Why to you think so?" asked thr girl, in, a voice quite unlike bee owe. "You will smile when I tell you, but I believe in these things. During the night I was startled from my sleep by bearing his voice—Sir Clinton's voice -- crying out for help. It was no fancy of mine; 1 heard it plainly as 1 hese my own voice now, and, unless we hear something of hire to -day, I shall be miserable." Lady May had risen from her seat; the color had faded from her face, leav- ing it as white as the face of the deed. There was a terrible fear in her eyes, a quiver as of deepest pain on her lips; then she said, slowly: "Even at the worst --supposing that we had quarreled—you do not think he would be so mad as to destroy himself? He is a man, auntie; men are nut smelt cowards." "He is a mem, and, as I have often told you, May, an exceptional one. I have seen much of life, I have known many love affairs, but I have never steel] anything like Sir Clinton's love for you. It was painful in its intensity, mad what he would do if there should ever be any quarrel between you, I cannot teil, something desperate, I am ,sure." "Auntie," cried the miserable girl, "I am frightened! Keep my seeret—I am frightened! You must never tell—we quarreled and pnrted last night. If anything has hapteeied to him, I Avail kill myself!" "Hush! my dear. I feared that it was so "You must keep my secret," else cried, Passionately; "no one must know. I shall keep up my pride before every one 'else, but not before yon—I cannot to you, because you, loved him, too. We quarreled and parted. He could net forgive me for being in that etupie play, and 1 was proud to him. We parted and now—oh! auntie I am so miserable that I wish I were dead." Site sebbed with passionate grief. "I shall suffer enough; you must never repreaeh THE SUNDAY SCHOOL, LgssoN yin. FIRST QUARTER, INTERNATIONAh SERIES, FEB- 19, Text of the Lesson, John vt, 1-116 MeMory Verses, 9 -411, -Golden Text, John vt. 85—commentary "'renamed by the Rev. D. M. Stearns. (Copyright. 1$513, by D. M. Stearris.i 1, 2. "A great nzultitude followed Him because they saw Ms mireolee wile% He Old on them that were diseased." Tile true disciples followed Hinl boeouso they be- lieved Min to he the Messiah, Israel's do- liverer and King, but the mejorky of peo- ple snw no 'beauty in Hint; they only saw a wonder working maa who could heal them when they were sick or feed them when bengry. He had, oroeeed the se, perhaps to be more alone with B is Father. for He was so mtsuuderstood by men, even by ilia disciples, but His Father melee - stood Him eerfeetly. The multitudes, however, would not lot Him alone, their needs wer,3 so many and lio was so able to nle3r4t.h'erInta Jesus went up into a meets- taitt and there 114 sat with gle diseiples, and the Itneeover, a feast of the Jew; was nigh," The Passover was a feast of the Lord, but it had become a mere feast Of tho dews, anythiug but en honor to 00, To iluri all was very real; tbe aelmale slain by His own hand to provide cents or skins for Adam and Eve (Oen, ill, 91); the lambs by whose Wood the firstborn were saved in Egypt; the sacrince He was soon to offer et Hituself—all WeM tet very, very real, hue tO Sheal a religioue ceremony, a weary form. et. "When nesue then lifted up His eyee and SW O great vonlpOtay eoluo Unto Rh*, Ho salth unto Philip, Whepee shell eve buy bread, that these glay Oar fle was full a commission for the multitudes, who were as sheep without a shophertli Att to their spiritual condition, their Wade. ors, the scribes and Pharisees, would nei- ther enter the kingclom themselves nor suffer others to enter. Whatever religious rites they performes . the object was tet be sou of ma (Math. xxiii, 5. 13) O. "And this lie said to prove him, for He HIntself knew what Ho would do." Man's thoughtsand ways arovery earthly. The Lord reeds none of them ills ere as far al:eve:emus heaven is higher then the mirth Ow Iv, (1) He intends to all that earth with His glory, and He knows just how Ile will do it, It WaS all plat* to Him from the heeinning, lict will eamplete His body, the chervil. Ile wtli Janke Israel all righteous, Ile Will eubdue all things unto Illetteelf. mad lie will let us he partners with Ulm in flis kingdom And In all Hangs tending to it, but Ile neves no suggestions from us ne to bow it shall be done 7. "Philip answered 11101, Two hun- dred pennyworth of bread is not eutiatient for them that every one of then* may take h little." Therefam the matter of feeding them was wholly out of the question, the money IleCes:tary WAR Mat 50 bo had, and it they bad the money where was the bread to be found? So to Pitilhes mind the web was Sirnply prel otertilia Ile did not know Iris Lord, nor elld he know Illtn even up to the night before Ile was mot- tled (John xiv, 9). 8, 0. "Ono of His disciples, Andrew, Eileen Peter's brotber, ealth unto eepte There is a Ind here which bath five barley loaves and two small fishes, but what are they among so manyr Wo look around and find that we have juSt so much, just the Veriest trifle of what is mcessary for the work, so little that it is ilot worth considering, and so we, like Andrew, feel that it is folly to think of it. These things are Written for our instruction. May we learn from them and front other Sculp- tures to have faith in God, to dwell with the King fer His work (1 Cline' Iv, 23). sure that what the leleg purpuses He is able to carry out. Alt power in heaven and on oarta is His. 10. "And .Tesus said, Make the mea sit down. Now, there was leach tress In the place. o the men sat down, in number about 5,000." All suggestions, ancourag- Ing or discouraging, are *low ended. The Lord, who knew just winut lie would do, takes the matter in hand und begins to work. Ho is tlio author and thesner of every good work. Ho is the only Creator, the only Redeemer, there is none but Ho, and none like Him. He ens's, 1 will wcrk, and who shall let it or turn it inczky (Ira xlili, 13). All the maniples base now to do is simply to watch Hum and obey His orders. Ho fed millions for 40 years. He gave their) flesh to the full without kill- ing a single ox or eheep. 11. "And Jesus took the loavos, and when Ho had given thanks Ho distributed to the disciples, and the disciples to them that wore set down, and likewise of the fishes, as much as they would." He might have rained bread from Leaven as He did in the wilderness, but Ho took what was at hand, and looking to His Fa- ther that He might work He multiplied Lt, as Ere did the oil and meal for the prophet and those with whom Ho lodged, and the oil for the widow that her debt might be paid (I Kings, xi, 14; II Kings iv, 7). 12. "When they were filled, He said un. to His disciples, Gather up the fragments that remain that nothing be lose" While He provides abundantly He will have noth- ing wasted. Filled and overflowing but all to His glory, and that loamy may be benefited. An abundance of wine at the feast in pana and much over, an abun- dance to eat on this occasion and much to Sparc, but nothing wasted, nothing lost. Whatever He gives us is that Ho may be glorified. How sad when He has to sew "the.God in whose band thy breath is and whose are an thy ways bast thou not glorified" (Dan. v, 23). 'When He per. ceives in us a real desire to glorify Him. wes.‘ha141311eabforirnotitheyt'ntah1Y:ltor iecl. leed them to- gether and filled 12 baskets with the frag- ments of tho five barley loaves whieh re - unlined over and above unto them that had eaten." People filled and baskets filled, and He did it all without any help from man. How wonderfully lie used the lad and his loaves. Yenrs ago I pray- ed that I might be like one a those loaves, fully in His hands, to be blessed and bro- ken, and as I go from city to city, from day to day and from week to week, I think hovv wonderfully He has answered my 1. prayer. `Then those men, 'when they had seen the miracle that .Tesus did, said, This Is of a truth that prophet that should come into the world." So they woad take Him by force and make Him it king, but He, having sent His disciples away by boat, departed alone to it mountain. The wind blew, the sea rose, and Ho did not come until the morning watch. Then Ho °ante walking on the sea, aed as soon as they received Him into the ship she was at the land. The people still sought Him, but only because Ho had fed them